


My Meta Archive: LOTR

by katajainen



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Analysis, Hobbits, Meta, Nazgûl | Ringwraiths, Nonfiction, Originally Posted on Tumblr, The One Ring - Freeform, Tough old hobbits won't have your nonsense, quotes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29285466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katajainen/pseuds/katajainen
Summary: The commentary I wrote for the@silmreadgroup read ofThe Lord of the Ringsback in 2017-18; originally posted on tumblr, collected here for easier reference.
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A global caveat: links may or may not work.
> 
> Check out my [silmread tag](https://katajainen.tumblr.com/tagged/silmread/) for these posts and the ones concerning The Hobbit. Also assorted fic recs, art, gifs, recipes and suchlike.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concerning Hobbits

On the face of it, LOTR seems to start out slow, with an infodump for Prologue.

But as far as I’m concerned, much of the apparent slowness is due to the fact that Tolkien builds for the long haul. The Prologue, and the next few chapters, are basically setting the scene – not the scene for the big impressive story events, but rather the scene for the life that the hobbits in the Fellowship will leave behind. In this sense, the prologue could be read as a very tangential kind of characterization. 

In addition to scene-setting, the Prologue works as a link to _The Hobbit_ , also completely apart from the account of Bilbo’s adventure and the finding of the Ring. In fact, the general description of hobbits is taken very nearly verbatim from the earlier book.

To go into detail, the following passage reminds me of what Gandalf said about Bilbo to the dwarves in _The Hobbit_ ; that ‘There is a lot more in him than you guess, and a deal more he has any idea of himself.’

> They were, if it came to it, difficult to daunt or to kill; and they were, perhaps, so unwearyingly fond of good things not least because they could, when put to it, do without them, and could survive rough handling by grief, foe or weather in a way that astonished those who didn’t know them well and looked no further than their bellies and their well-fed faces.

(On a side note: here is also demonstrated a typical feature of Tolkien’s prose: the entire quote above is a single sentence.)

Concerning the outward description of hobbits, more precisely, concerning hobbits of colour, I’d like to point you towards [an excellent meta post](http://bluefall-returns.tumblr.com/post/142923261492/concerning-hobbits-of-color) by [@bluefall-returns](https://tmblr.co/mCdpmDemnsQCt1LWll0I9fw) that takes into account both the Prologue and LOTR and _The Hobbit_ in general.

Sad to say, I had to have the question of colour explicitly pointed out to me, because in all my rereads I had never even thought about it. (Swear to gods, for years the thing that annoyed me the most about the LOTR movie casting was that Elijah Wood was too young and pretty to fit my headcanon of Frodo, not the fact that he’s white.)

(On a semi-related note, both [@fishfingersandscarves](https://tmblr.co/mD6GelpPoj0gQwTONWOd8Nw) and [@transjiimhawkins](https://tmblr.co/mE7JM3jdDiw6EG1lnfjk6xA) have very lovely Middle Earth POC character designs.)

One thing I had completely forgotten, probably under the influence of time and the movie visuals, are hobbit-houses, as distinct from hobbit-holes, or smials proper. The Prologue states that the custom of building underground was on the wane at the time of the story, and more and more hobbits elected to live aboveground, albeit in dwellings built in a very distinctive style (round windows and doors being the chief peculiarity).

It’s interesting to note that the tradition is described as being upheld by the Shire residents in the opposite ends of the income scale. As far as the wealthy are concerned, the reason would be simply that building sites suitable for a proper smial had become rare, and hence prime real estate (another consideration, most suited to hobbitish social dynamics, would be the prestige accorded to traditional dwellings, moreso if they were inherited). On the opposite end of the scale would have been those hobbits who could afford neither building aboveground or prime smial-building sites, being forced to inhabit, and I quote, ‘burrows of the most primitive kind’.

The bigger picture would be that despite the intentions of its residents to the contrary, the world is changing also in the Shire. And this, in my opinion, serves as a nice subtle lead-up to the story that’s about to begin.


	2. Book 1, Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Long-expected Party

If I compare it to the Prologue, I feel the first chapter is less about setting the scene (even if it’s about that too, and much in the same way as the Prologue: more of a character background than story setting) and more about saying goodbye. In a way, it’s a chapter-length farewell to _The Hobbit_ that contains the seeds of a new and completely different story.

The chapter revolves around the eponymous birthday party that turns into a farewell feast. The party and its preparations are all about setting the scene and mood of the Shire, while also off-hand telling Frodo’s backstory. But the speech Bilbo gives at the party proper has one of my favourite (because of the quirky linguistic humour) LOTR quotes:

> _I don’t know half of you half as well I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve._

Cleverly turned words that sound quite, but not indisputably, like a compliment -- in fact, it is more than likely that the speaker is laughing into his (non-existent) beard. To me as a reader, the speech and the following disappearing trick are pure and undiluted Bilbo Baggins snark. Good reputation? Who needs one anyway?

But afterwards, Bilbo goes and takes with him every memento of his first adventure, all carefully kept through the years: the hood and cloak lent to him by Dwalin on the day he dashed out of his house without so much as a handkerchief, Sting, and the shirt of mithril mail (implied).

Every memento, but one. The one thing he means to pass on, he almost takes with him. He’s given out an abundance of presents to make it easier for himself to give away this one thing more. But the Ring is not, nor it will ever be, just that one thing more. For all Bilbo has used it quite blithely over the years, he’s now starting to have conflicting emotions about it, especially about parting with it:

> ’And yet it would be a relief in a way not to be bothered with it any more. It has been so growing in my mind lately. Sometimes I have felt it was like an eye looking at me. And I am always wanting to put it on and disappear, don’t you know; or wondering if it’s safe, and pulling it out to make sure. I tried locking it up, but I found I couldn’t rest without it in my pocket.’

But he does give it up, and seems on lighter spirits almost at once, and when he steps through the door, it’s with a song on his lips.

And the Road goes ever on, taking with it the living link between the present story and _The Hobbit_. This time, though, Bilbo leaves not with thirteen dwarves, but three. That his traveling companions are left nameless makes me more than slightly curious, since this is so obviously a deliberate choice on the part of the author; after all, in describing Bilbo’s birthday party Tolkien quotes the names of minor hobbit characters whose only function in the story is to strike up a dance at an inconvenient time. But that’s a speculation for another time.

So with the farewells said, we’re left with the centerpiece of the new story, sitting in an envelope on the mantelpiece, awaiting its new keeper.


	3. Book 1, Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shadow of the Past

Two things that stuck: it takes Sam Gamgee three lines (his first three lines in the book!) to get to dragons – four lines to get to Ents. And I was left wondering what Gollum might think of the hospitality of Mirkwood.

But, to backpedal a little: if _A Long-expected Party_ gave Frodo’s backstory, _The Shadow of the Past_ introduces the other two players of the endgame: Sam and Sméagol/Gollum. (I did say Tolkien builds for the long haul, didn’t I? This is _very long_ foreshadowing.)

Gollum, of course, is a familiar character from _The Hobbit_ already, but this chapter tells for the first time the full story of how the Ring came to be in his possession – or the full story as it was pieced together by Gandalf (with somewhat questionable means: ‘I put the fear of fire on him’ means coercion at the least, something more sinister at the worst).

What drew my attention the most was Frodo’s reaction upon hearing Gandalf’s account: he calls Gollum ‘loathsome’, and denies any connection he might have to hobbits as an ‘abominable notion’. Moreover, he says, and I quote, that it’s ‘a pity Bilbo didn’t stab that vile creature, when he had a chance!’ That’s rather harsh, I should say. And when you know how it’s going to play out in the end, you also know that sentiment will come back to haunt him.

As it should, because after all’s been said and done, Gollum is a pitiful creature. See how Tolkien describes his long meaningless years in the bowels of Misty Mountains:

> ’All the “great secrets” under the mountains had turned out to be just empty night: there was nothing more to find out, nothing worth doing, only nasty furtive eating and resentful remembering. He was altogether wretched. He hated the dark, and the hated light more: he hated everything, and the Ring most of all.’

That’s a miserable life. To me, it sounds less like a life than like an addict’s existence. Survival, and hating every breath, every second of it.

But yes, the thing that stuck with me. Gandalf had left Gollum to the keep of the Mirkwood Elves. And I can’t help imagining Gollum going ‘blergh’ at every bit of food offered, unless it’s _raw and wriggling_.

Then onto Sam. If I’m counting correctly, his line number three in this chapter, and the whole book, goes right for the bull’s eye:

> ’[- - -] I daresay there’s more truth in some of them [stories] than you [Ted Sandyman] reckon. Who invented the stories anyway? Take dragons now.’

And as if that’s not enough, Sam next launches into a story of Ents (although he does not call them by that name, rather than ‘Tree-men’) recently seen up beyond the North Moors. ‘Big as an elm tree’ he describes them, ‘and walking – walking seven yards to a stride, if it was an inch.’ 

Now, if I were reading this for the first time, I’d probably dismiss Sam’s talk pretty much like Ted Sandyman does: like so much moonshine. But as it is, I’m basically going _Ents, what, Ents so far up north, what’s the deal here?_ (Of course, as far as I recall, this is just one of Tolkien’s off-hand mentions that doesn’t connect to much of anything in the present story, but anyway.)

To start with, Sam Gamgee might seem a dreamer, his head full of old stories, a bit simple, perhaps, but there’s more to him than that, for he does talk back to Gandalf:

> ’Eavesdropping, sir? I don’t follow you, begging your pardon. There ain’t no eaves at Bag End, and that’s a fact.’

That’s basically classic Tolkien sass: very polite on the surface, but with built-in backtalk and a pun added for good measure.

Which reminds me of what looks to me like a slight continuity error: on p. 61 of my edition, it’s mentioned that Sam ‘passed on the path outside, whistling’ (Frodo and Gandalf’s POV). But two pages later, Sam himself explains having heard a great part of Gandalf’s tale, starting with Sauron and Mount Doom – things that were spoken _before_ he was heard in the garden (and before Gandalf opened the shutters he’d closed before) – so clearly he has been eavesdropping behind the (closed) window for quite some time.

Another thing that caught my attention was how Sam seems more confident and sure of himself at the Green Dragon in the company of his mates than he is later with Frodo and Gandalf. The situation is, of course, different, since he’s been caught red-handed (or red-eared) and Gandalf _is_ an intimidating presence, if necessary, but I can’t help feeling whether Tolkien might be illustrating the effect of a class difference here.

All in all, this is but the first glimpse of Sam, and he has hidden depths (all right, all right, I _am_ partial here). But I think it’s fitting what Gandalf says concerning hobbit-lore here:

> ’But there’s only one Power in this world that knows all about the Rings and their effects; and as far as I know there is no Power in the world that knows all about hobbits.’

There is more to them that meets the eye, and have the potential to offer surprises in tight places.


	4. Book 1, Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three is Company

In this chapter, the nazgûl come after Frodo three times. On the first time, he’s saved by misdirection, on the last time by the appearance of Gildor and company, but the second time, the one in between… that’s tricksy.

The first glimpse of a Black Rider is not very ominous: in fact, Frodo does not even see the thing, only hears a voice that’s ‘strange and somehow unpleasant’ and apparently quiet enough that he can’t make out actual words.

The one to speak to the Rider is Gaffer Gamgee, and the old geezer does a wonderful job. I mean, his final words are, and I quote, ‘No, I can’t give no message. Good night to you!’ which essentially boils down to ‘Shoo, go bother someone else!’ And the thing _does_ go, in the false belief that Frodo has already left.

The second appearance is already more intimidating:

> Round the corner came a black horse, no hobbit-pony but a full-sized horse; and on it sat a large man, who seemed to crouch in the saddle, wrapped in a great black cloak and hood, so that only his boots in the high stirrups showed below; his face was shadowed and invisible.

Now this is an iconic, classic image. This is what the movies recreated to a terrific (meaning ‘inspiring terror’) effect. And then there’s the Ring that wants to be worn, that _tempts_.

But a strange thing happens: the moment Frodo is about to give in, the moment he touches the chain securing the Ring-- that precise moment the Rider seems to loose interest and leaves. That is most curious. Most curious indeed. Saved by a chance? Maybe. But I rather think not.

But the third time a Black Rider comes after Frodo, is, in my opinion, the creepiest. Literally.

> The black shadow stood close to the point where they had left the path, and it swayed from side to side. Frodo thought he heard the sound of snuffling. The shadow bent to the ground, and then began to crawl towards him.

Now I’ll be damned if this is not the perfect nightmare fuel. For me, this is the point where the Rider's very _otherness_ starts to show through.

Frodo is tempted by the Ring even worse than before-- and this time it _is_ chance that saves him: a chance meeting of Elves. But. Offering food and company is well and fine -- but declining information is not. Gildor’s ‘we can’t tell you more about the Black Riders lest you be too scared’ rubs me the wrong way like anything. (Of course, this could be a narrative device to set up in order not to reveal too much about the Riders yet, but it reminds me too much of the way Gandalf puts of telling Bilbo-- and later Frodo-- about his suspicions concerning the Ring.)

All in all, in the first and last case it’s easy to see the reason why Frodo is not yet found, but the second scene... is odd. That sudden disinterest on the part of the Rider bugs me. (And no, not for one second will I believe that it was a mere stroke of luck that made the nazgûl suddenly decide to leave.) Now, if I were to find far-fetched explanations, I’d say Frodo _willed_ the thing gone, his hand touching, if not the Ring, then a conduit to it. It is, after all, the Master Ring to rule all others, and the ringwraiths are weak (relatively speaking) shadows still. But no, that does not ring true. In fact, the whole thing smells more like foreshadowing, but for the life of me I can’t remember what of. 


	5. Book 1, Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Short Cut to Mushrooms

The _nazgûl_ probably thought finding the whereabouts of one ‘Baggins’ would be easier than this.

First they just miss him leaving his house in Hobbiton, _then_ he gives them the slip in the countryside, and when they try to suss out information from a local farmer, they’re threatened with dogs (a less than brilliant idea, considering the dogs are mortally terrified of the thing, but the spirit in it is as sound as in Gaffer Gamgee’s final ‘No, I can’t give no message. Good night to you!’)

If we take Farmer Maggot's own account of his encounter with the nazgûl at face value, it’s pretty impressive.

> ’“Have you seen _Baggins_?” he asked in a queer voice, and bent down towards me. I could not see any face, for his hood fell down so low; and I felt a sort of shiver down my back. But I did not see why he should come riding over my land so bold.’

Maggot is not intimidated by the black stranger on his high horse; no, he’s angry because the damn bugger is _trespassing_. Nor will his co-operation be bought with the promise of gold.

So we have two elderly hobbits, Gaffer Gamgee and Farmer Maggot, both seemingly tough as leather and horseshoe nails, sending the ringwraiths on their way without really telling them much. And doing so with complete aplomb. Of course, one facet of this feat would be an deeply ingrained distrust of strangers, especially those of the Big Folk, but it feels there is more to it than that. These hobbits feel so sure of themselves, so confident of their place on the ground they stand on, that they won’t be cajoled to turn on one of their own.

Now in the case of Old Gamgee, part of this might be due to a personal loyalty to Frodo, but Maggot has no reason to be particularly fond of the trespassing and mushroom-thieving rascal of the past. So it must be a case of principle.

A sample of two is hardly representative, but I think Frodo is lucky in that his pursuers have not run into less scrupulous hobbits (there are those as well, as we’ll see later in the book).


End file.
